It Doesn't Matter
by crapwriting
Summary: Set in the summer after fifth year, Hermione investigates the aftermath of the slug incident, only to find herself drawn up in the mystery of one Mr. Draco 'Evil Git' Malfoy.
1. Finite Incan taunt um

Disclaimer: I'm not Rowling. Don't look so surprised. Oh yea, and don't sue. Please.

A/N: 

This fic was written in response to a challenge at the dhr_valentine fic Valentine's fic exchange.

Many thanks to my favorite beta, Jennifer. The fastest beta in the west. Or something. Anyway, thank you.

I picked the title, although not an astoundingly witty or brilliant one, both because it fit the tone of this story and in response to JK's now infamous interview response.  
  
**Author's Note:** The line "It hasn't really started yet. But it won't be long now…" is directly quoted from OOTP, p.865 American Ed., hardcover.  


***

If you hate a person, you hate something in him that is a part of yourself. What isn't part of ourselves doesn't disturb us.   
--Herman Hesse 

There is a battle that goes on between men and women. Many people call it love.

- Edward Munch

Dogs love their friends and bite their enemies, quite unlike people, who are incapable of pure love and always have to mix love and hate.

- Sigmund Freud

***

Harry shuffled his way from the bathroom back towards his compartment on the Hogwarts Express. He heard snickering behind him, but could hardly be bothered to look up. "Let them laugh," he thought angrily, assuming that it was someone who still believed him to be nutters.

Before he could give the matter any more thought, however, Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot came charging out of a compartment to Harry's left, gesturing wildly with their wands and hurling curses directly behind him. At first irrationally convinced that they were trying to kill him, Harry stumbled away as quickly as he could before whirling around, wand ready.

Occupying the entirety of the aisle in front of him were three enormous slugs, crammed into Hogwarts uniforms. Hogwarts uniforms with Slytherin badges. Harry wasn't quite sure how to respond, and looked up to find six rather bewildered DA members staring at the three as well. He overheard Terry Boot hypothesizing how the result was likely the combination of some belching slugs curses, a few well spoken _Protego_s, and possibly someone's clever idea of an unfinished or overexhuberant cross-species transfiguration. Harry cleared his throat.

"Er…"

Ron had come rushing into the corridor and now stood next to Harry. "Bloody hell! What happened here? Good thing I came and not Hermione. She'd kill you lot."

A few members of the group blushed, but Harry grinned appreciatively. Naturally, Ron, being the shining example of a Prefect himself, wouldn't be doling out any punishments.

Quite on the contrary, Ron cleared some space on a nearby luggage rack for the slugs to go, muttering something about not wanting them to be in the way. Harry noticed Ron's growing tendency to glance over his shoulder fairly often and knew exactly why Ron wanted the three dolts to be somewhat hidden. After Justin and Ernie helped Harry hoist the Slytherin slugs onto the luggage rack, he shook their hands, waved his thanks to the group and walked back to the compartment with Ron. He suddenly felt a great deal better. 

***

Hermione looked up from her _Daily Prophet_ as Ron reentered the compartment, followed by Harry. They looked oddly gleeful. She raised an eyebrow, but said nothing and turned back to her reading.

After some time and after reading some interesting parts aloud, Hermione sighed and folded up the paper. "It hasn't really started yet. But it won't be long now…" 

It occurred to her at about this point that Malfoy had not made his usual appearance in their compartment. After contributing the best she could to the Cho Chang conversation, she allowed her mind to return to this particular train of thought.

And for some reason, what kept resurfacing in her mind were the all-too-gleeful faces of her two best friends as they returned from what she now remembered was a very noisy hallway. With a frown, she excused herself to the loo and stood up to investigate. 

Upon her first inspection of the train, nothing seemed out of order. She checked all of the compartments, and no one seemed terribly distressed or injured, aside from two third years who had gotten into an argument over a box of Bertie Botts'. Apparently one had given the other an earwax-flavored bean, promising it was butter pecan.

After resolving the argument with a threat to confiscate the Beans, Hermione returned to the hallway. She hadn't found Malfoy or his cronies in any of the compartments. She had to be missing something. Although her inquisitive side wanted nothing more than to march back to her own compartment and demand such information from Harry and Ron, her pride would not allow her to do so.

There was no way she was going to let either of them know that she had noticed they foul trio's absence. Besides, she could figure it out on her own.

After another five fruitless minutes, she realized that she might not be able to.

With a heavy sigh and a final trek down the corridor, she decided that, while she was out, she ought to check that the luggage was all in place. She assumed that the train would be stopping soon.

Hermione was about halfway between the bathroom and her own compartment when she reached the luggage rack holding Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. Her immediate response, upon finding three giant slugs wearing ill-fitting robes, stacked into a semi-closet like slimy suitcases was a quick, horrified backstep.

It took her a few moments (to allow for the gagging to cease) before she could begin to undo the damage. As she raised her wand, she halted once again.

It had occurred to her exactly what sort of chaos her release and restoration of the three could cause. She sighed again and held her wand to her chin, thinking. One of the three began to wriggle, in what she assumed was a slug's feeble impersonation of anger.

She glanced down each end of the hall before she spoke, to ensure that no one would come across her whispering to giant slugs.

"If I release you three, and you cause any sort of trouble, there will be consequences. Quite honestly, I'd be happy to see you remain in your slimy, disgusting, proper forms."

The angry slug ceased its wriggling. Hermione could have sworn it was glaring at her. The other two did not seem to have heard her.

With a final sigh and a shake of her head, Hermione whispered a few incantations to end the magic active in the three adolescents. With her first _"Finite Incantatum_". Draco Malfoy tumbled from the luggage rack, landing ungracefully on his stomach at Hermione's feet. Her second and third were followed with a resounding crash, as the luggage rack collapsed along with Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, who sat amongst the luggage for several minutes, looking rather dazed. 

Heads poked out of every compartment and several Prefects began rushing out to Hermione's aid, but she waved them back. "I'm fine, thanks. Nothing to see here. Please return to your compartments."

A red-faced Ron then dashed into the hallway, gripping his wand tightly in one hand, while clutching a very disgruntled pawn in the other. 

"Ron, it's fine. Go back in. I've got Malfoy."

She watched a look of horror wash over Ron's face, and by the red tint his ears were taking on, she gathered that Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle being trapped in a luggage rack as giant slugs was nothing new to him. He took a few steps forward.

"Ron. Go."

"But… Hermione… They'll…I could…"

"I've got it." Her tone of voice implied that Ron's future had nothing bright in store for him.

She turned back to Malfoy and noted that Ron, after further hesitation, finally turned back to their compartment.

Draco sneered up at her from where he was now sitting, with his back against the wall. "Don't need your prince charming's help, then?" He paused, attempting to look pensive, before the insult came. "Although I suppose he's more of a charming peasant, then, isn't he?"

Hermione glared at him before attempting mock surprise. "I didn't realize you understood what charm was, Malfoy."

She heard an unpleasant cracking sound and looked up to see Crabbe and Goyle, now unencumbered by luggage, cracking their knuckles at her.

She sighed and waved her wand at them, muttering a quick "_Petrificus Totalus"_ at each before turning her attention back to Malfoy. She pretended not to hear the resounding thuds their collapses made.

"Example A: Setting your goons on me. Charming."

Draco had the decency to look surprised. "I had nothing to do with that. They're just a bit overprotective. They love me, you know."

Hermione stifled a laugh and schooled her features into an angry stare once again. For some reason, she had just pictured Crabbe and Goyle as Malfoy's own version of Harry and Ron.

Malfoy misread her poorly stifled laugh. "What's so funny? I think I'm highly deserving of such worship. Just because you're a filthy M-"

"A filthy Mudblood, I know. Grow up, Malfoy. Or at least think of some better insults. It's no good when your enemy can finish them for you."

Draco scowled.

"Well, really, I mean - " 

Hermione paused. Draco was standing up. Determined to not be intimidated by him, she rushed on.

"The only reason you ever even began using such foul language is because-"

Draco had taken a step towards her. Hermione moved back an insignificant amount. She noticed a second year poking his head out of the closest compartment.

"…of your father. It's not like you ever-"

Draco had taken another step.

"…even-"

The train's direction changed abruptly. Hermione saw the second year fall into the hall before he pulled himself away from the compartment door. In spite of her best attempts at maintaining balance, she stumbled backwards.

"…meant-"

Draco reached out an arm and deftly caught her before she fell, his seeker reflexes working to her benefit. She realized, suddenly, that she had dropped her wand. His arm was still around her. She looked up at Draco, half-expecting him to be pulsing with anger and ready to strike.

She wasn't given a chance to comprehend the look on his face, because he kissed her. He kissed her abruptly, pushing her firmly into the wall she had so accidentally backed towards. It was over in a few seconds, but for Hermione, it felt like it had lasted for five years.

When she was able to open her eyes, she found him leaning against the opposite wall, staring at her with an unreadable expression.

She coughed and glanced guiltily at Crabbe and Goyle's still figures.

"So. Right. The train should be stopping soon. I should… Er… We should - the Prefects, I mean, we should check-"

He had crossed the hallway and was standing very close to her again. She looked up and found that he was watching her, a very concerned look mingling with the darkness that had overcome his countenance since the news of his father's imprisonment. He touched her arms lightly.

"Does it really matter, Granger?"

Before she could process this strange statement that seemed so incongruent with her own, Draco pulled out his wand and turned away from her, released Crabbe and Goyle, and strolled down the hallway toward his compartment, never looking back.


	2. The Letters

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

***

It was late July when Hermione decided that she had figured him out. But what to do about it would likely take the rest of the summer. And Hermione wasn't sure if, after spending so much time in the Manor, he would return to school in the same state of mind. It was because of this that Hermione decided to write to him.

She had never thrown away more parchment in her life. Finally, she reached what she decided was her final draft.

__

D. Malfoy - 

I would like to apologize, not only for the actions of my peers, but also for my own actions on the Hogwarts Express. I feel as though I behaved rather immaturely, especially for a Prefect, and I should not have resorted to verbally assaulting you. 

I hope that you are doing well, and enjoying your break. 

-Hermione Granger

Carefully, Hermione rolled up the parchment, tied it with a delicate black ribbon, and set it on her dresser. She would just have to wait for Ron or Harry to owl her before she could send it. 

A voice in the back of her head told her that this was clearly procrastination, and that there were other ways to obtain an owl. She didn't have any time to refute this, however, as a tapping at her window then alerted her to Hedwig's presence. 

"Oh, bugger."

Before she could reevaluate her actions, before she had a chance to sleep on it, before she could gracefully back out of this ridiculous idea of owling Draco "Evil Git" Malfoy, she traded Harry's letter for hers and asked Hedwig to run it to Draco and come back for her return post to Harry. Hedwig twittered in an irritated fashion, but left on her mission just the same.

She had just finished reading Harry's letter when Hedwig returned. Her heart sunk.

She was carrying no reply post. Hermione's letter was gone, but Malfoy had not written anything in response. 

Hermione berated herself over being so upset over something so ridiculous and began her answer to Harry's letter. When she had finished, thanked Hedwig profusely and sent her away with her letter to Harry, Hermione threw herself onto her bed, carefully avoiding the scattered parchment and books that littered her usually immaculate coverlet. Night was falling, and Hermione felt as though her day had been completely unproductive, in spite of the sheer exhaustion she felt. She was, in fact, just drifting off to sleep when her still-open window allowed a hawk to fly into her room.

Hermione sat up quickly, pulling away from the bird. It, on the other hand, was not in the least phased by her, so much so that it landed quietly on the bed, mere inches from her. It was then that she saw the parchment tied to its leg.

With a frown and a great deal of apprehension, she reached out to the bird and quickly untied the letter. The hawk imitated a bow and removed itself to a perch on one of her dressers. Apparently, she was expected to reply.

She swallowed, her hands shaking a great deal as she unrolled the parchment.

__

Granger - 

I was **clearly** seriously affronted by your actions on the train. I accept that your "companions" or "peers" or "pathetic excuses of wizards" are, indeed, just that. I did, however, expect more from you. Well, no. Actually I didn't. 

Of the many things you could apologize to me for, your "verbal assault" is fairly insignificant. I am actually unsure if the purpose of your post was to goad me into apologizing for my "oral assault", but if it was your reasoning, I must admit that I understand you even less now than I ever have. I always thought you were strange, Granger, but this is truly remarkable.

In any case, however, I do appreciate (in spite of my utter confusion) the nature of your letter. My summer is going abysmally, although I am not entirely looking forward to my glorious return to our wonderful school, either. I suppose my lengthy response to such a frivolous letter from you is a clear indication of the extent of enjoyment I am reaping from my holiday, although I must admit, also, that I am intrigued by your letter.

Should you deem to answer me with any sort of explanation for your strange earlier post, I've instructed my hawk to await your response. I would hate for Potter to find out you've been using his owl to correspond with me. I'm quite sure it would break his heart. Besides, his pathetic excuse for an owl would likely get lost if you sent it here again. I'm quite sure it looked rather flustered when it finally managed to arrive on its last flight.

-Draco

Hermione took a deep breath, reread the letter, and fell back onto her bed. He was going to play blunt and stupid. Subtlety could not save her. 

With a deep breath, she pulled up a fresh piece of parchment, opened an inkpot, and began her response.

__

Draco - 

I'm not quite sure where to begin. You've essentially rendered me speechless. I sometimes wonder if you delight in leaving me in such a state. It seems, you see, that you are the only person capable of doing so. In any case, I'll do my best to answer you.

I did not expect you to apologize for kissing me, and I would never dare ask you to do such a thing. I can only imagine that your reaction to your own actions, (once you had regained rational thought process), was less than pleasant, to say the least. And while the purpose of my letter was to apologize for my actions on the train, I suppose it was also spurned by the hope that, in light of Hogwarts' need of unity, we could put our differences behind us. I can only hope that we are both mature enough to do so. As school Prefects, I feel it is our duty to be an example to those younger than us, and I think that cursing each other and calling each other foul names is a poor way of doing so.

I will admit, however, that the purpose of my letter was twofold. I was also quite astonished by both your actions and the words that you left me with on the train, and I suppose I hoped for some sort of explanation from you, without having to come right out and ask you.

Clearly, this was not in the cards.

In any case, I appreciate your return post and the use of your hawk. I hope your summer holiday improves.

-H.G.

She reread her letter about four times before she finally rolled it up. She stood up to approach the hawk, but before she could take a step towards her dresser, it flew over to her, landing gracefully on her windowsill with an outstretched leg. Hermione shook her head at the Malfoy opulence and tied the letter to the hawk's leg. With another one of what Hermione swore was some sort of curtsy, the bird soared from her room and into the night.

She didn't have to wait long for a response. The next letter came quickly, and was very brief.

__

Granger-

No more letters. I'll be at your house shortly. You should, perhaps, meet me outside. 

-Draco

Hermione dropped the parchment, picked it up, and reread the three sentences several times. Finally, she glanced in the mirror, shook her head at the hopelessness of her hair, and dashed down the stairs and out the front door. 

Draco was standing in her driveway clutching his Nimbus2001, and glaring at the moon. His hair was slightly tousled and his cheeks were tinged with pink. She assumed that he had just arrived. She allowed the strangeness of his presence next to her family's minivan to permeate her consciousness before she coughed, tearing his focus away from the sky.

His head whipped around, and for a second, Hermione thought his glare had softened. It had quite possibly been a trick of the moonlight, however.

She cleared her throat. She had absolutely no idea what to say to him. And for some reason, the very sight of him had caused her blood pressure to jump significantly.

He smirked. "Got a cold, Granger?"

She wrinkled her brow in confusion and shook her head. Silence ensued while the pair of them stared at each other, each growing more anxious as the situation became more awkward. Hermione took a nervous step towards him. Draco tensed noticeably.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

Hermione sighed. 

"Well, you're the one that opted to fly yourself over to my house in the middle of the night. So why don't you tell me exactly why you're here?"

Draco stared at her for a few minutes before deciding on a response.

"I'm bored."

Hermione rolled her eyes and leaned against the car.

"You're bored."

Draco shrugged his shoulders and began examining his broomstick.

"Well, why don't you begin by answering my letter?"

Draco glanced up at her. "What, Granger, you expect me to have it memorized?"

Hermione paused. "Do you really need to respond line by line? Didn't anything important jump out at you?"

Draco flushed slightly, but maintained the appearance of confusion. "Like what?"

Hermione sighed. "Oh, I don't know, Draco. Maybe you could offer a little explanation of why you kissed me on the train?"

The Nimbus2001 slipped from Draco's grasp, but he managed to catch it before it hit the driveway. Upon finding a very amused Hermione watching him, he sneered and paused, as if trying to think of a good insult.

"Draco, listen, I didn't mean to-"

He looked up sharply and cleared his throat. "You called me Draco." He paused and frowned. "Twice. You've called me Draco twice now."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide the blush that had so quickly spread to her cheeks. "You're avoiding the question."

Draco smirked. "We're both trying to avoid certain things, now aren't we, Gr… Hermione?"

He had spoken her name as if he was trying to answer a question, but was reasonably sure he had the wrong answer. Hermione smiled.

"We've always tried to avoid certain things, now haven't we, Draco?"

He smiled very brightly. "But hasn't it been fun and competitive hating each other? It's so much easier than-"

He broke off, ceased his smiling, and glanced at his shoes.

Hermione pushed away from the minivan and took another step towards him. "You remember, on the train? You said…. You asked me if any of it even mattered. All of the insults. All of the hatred. None of it matters?"

He looked up at her slowly, his expression much more somber. "Hermione, I'm not going to lie to you. Your friends…" He gestured with his free hand rather violently. "I hate the Weasley twit. Not nearly as much as I hate Potter, but I hate him all the same. You keep terrible company…"

Hermione mumbled about a pot and a kettle under her breath, but he ignored her and continued.

"But… I guess… I guess I didn't like you at first, because of the two of them. And, well… you were a bossy little bitch. And, worst of all, you were besting me in some classes. So I teased you and disliked you, and then… you know… the whole Mudblood business…"

Draco cleared his throat again, and looked down at his feet.

"I can't tell you how flattered I am," Hermione said dryly. 

Draco looked up, surprised. "You didn't let me finish."

Hermione grimaced. "Oh boy, there's more?"

Draco shook his head. "Like I was saying, in the beginning, I disliked you. But how anyone could _hate_ you, I have yet to discover. You became my favorite enemy. You were brilliant. You were strong."

Draco paused, cringing as if speaking in such a manner was extremely painful. With a sigh, he continued. 

  
"You personify Gryffindor with your courage… And worst of all, you're generally indifferent to taunting. Hurting you became a game. If I could get to you, it was quite an accomplishment. And, after a point, I began to interpret, based on your reactions, how much you cared…."

Hermione rubbed her nose and glanced at the driveway. Images rolled through her mind - the first time he'd called her a Mudblood and she had discovered the disgusting prejudices present in the Wizarding World, the time she had slapped him and he had retreated…the look he had given her at the Yule Ball. She closed her eyes and willed her concentration back to the present to find that he was talking again.

"…and it wasn't until later that I realized that I… well… that I had feelings for you."

Hermione opened her eyes to find him watching her. 

"Of course, this did nothing but incur even more of my wrath. I never wanted to… well… I wanted to hate you. It's difficult, Granger. You're difficult. And I suppose that's part of why I like you. But it doesn't make my life any easier."

Hermione smiled, noting his defensive return to using her last name. "Yea, well, it's no real picnic for me either, Malfoy."

Draco gave her a half-hearted scowl. "You know I'm loveable."

Hermione laughed and began to object, but it was too late. Draco was already looming over her, and before she could gather her wits, he had kissed her again. All rational thought fled.

But Hermione didn't care. She was kissing Draco Malfoy - the King of Gits, her worst enemy, formerly the epitome of all that was wrong with the world- in the driveway of her Muggle home, underneath a beautiful starry sky.

And life had never looked better. 


End file.
